Promise
by M.S. Fisher
Summary: Late night, quiet reminiscent and innocent touch…could it lead to a confession long suppressed? LuluWakka


**Title**: Promise

**Author Name**: M.S. Fisher

**Author Email**: darkdesires@likesomething.com

**Category**: Romance

**Sub Category**: Angst

**Rating**: G

**Spoilers**: Just the mention of the Lulu/Wakka/Chappu happenings.

**Summary**: Late night, quiet reminiscent and innocent touch…could it lead to a confession long suppressed?

**DISCLAIMER**: This story is based on the characters and situations created and owned by Squaresoft. No money is being made and no copyright or infringement is intended. This work was inspired by** Valandra's _A Bedtime Promise_**, which includes some excerpts from the actual story. If you appreciate this story you'll really appreciate hers. I encourage you to read it.

His breathing had slowed drastically and I opened my eyes to look at him. He was asleep, a very much deserved sleep, as it had been an exhausting end to an exhausting journey. There were dried tears on his cheeks, which shone eerily in the moonlight that came through the picture window. I heard him crying earlier, but had been too much of a coward to talk to him about it.

Especially when she knew it was his brother he was crying about.

His brother.

The one I had loved.

Chappu was dead, killed by Sin. I had finally accepted it after seeing him in the Farplane on Yuna's pilgrimage. Well, maybe not right then, but after a while it was easier to accept that thought. Chappu wasn't coming back. Even that thought brought a sharp pain to my gut.

When Wakka sleeps he makes little mewling sounds. I know because I have been watching him for four hours since we retired from Yuna's speech despite the fact that I have a long journey back to Besaid the next morning. Wakka has long, dark eyelashes that many women in Spira dream of or wish a man would have. They always embarrassed him when he was younger; the other kids had always teased him about them. When he sleeps, his lips part and sort of pout and when he moves onto his back his arms cross over his chest, as if he were hugging himself. I wonder if he slept like this on the pilgrimage, with his soft cries and silent tears.

I am in love with Wakka.

It's obvious now, I know, but I don't think anyone could tell beyond this bedroom. It was something I think I've just realized, really, though there has always been a time that I felt things for him. I still can remember ever detail of his face that day when we were told of Chappu's death. It's something I wish I could forget…

I had overheard it when I stopped by the Crusaders tent to check for the updates on the mission. I don't think I cried, but I remember this feeling, like my chest was being squeezed and I couldn't breathe. My heart couldn't beat and I didn't know how, but I could walk. Yuna found me by the temple, my breath coming short, and my body numb. 

 "Chappu's dead,"

"I know," she said, her young face fragile.

"What do you mean…'you know'?"

"I-I heard…I saw you run away from the tent a-and I went in and asked about Chappu." She said, her voice light. Strained. "They told me."

"Did you tell Wakka?"

"No."

"Good. Don't."

Yuna had looked surprised. "Why not?"

"Because," I took a deep breath, "I think…it would be better if I told him. I don't want anyone else to tell him. Just me."

I moved from where I sat near the windowsill to the side of the bed, kneeling and leaning on the soft covers of the mattress. He rolled over then, sending me in a panic and I dropped my head quickly into my arms. He said nothing and I stayed in this position for a very long time before I got the courage to look up at him again. A sigh escaped my lips when I saw him still sleeping, his left hand cradling his face while the right hung limply over his stomach.

I inched onto the bed and as gently as I could, lay down facing him. When we were children, Chappu and I would always crawl into Wakka's hammock and we'd stay up and tell stories. I would always hang onto Wakka's hand when I was scared, but whenever he talked about it the next morning I would deny it. A small smile managed its way onto my lips.

Wakka moved causing me to freeze in hopes that he wouldn't wake up. I could watch him for another four hours without getting tired, but if he woke up now and caught me…

He merely rolled onto his back, right arm still resting on his stomach, his left hand resting palm upward on the pillow. I stared at that hand for a long time, caught in an eternal debate. 

Biting my lip, I inched my hand upward towards his own. My hand hovered over the top of his, taking a moment to marvel at the contrast our skin made. His dark tan to my white porcelain. Exhaling slowly, my skin tingled as I let my hand rest in his, the calluses from blitzball scratching pleasantly against my softer skin. My entire body was taut as I concentrated on the sneaky joining, letting my fingers slip between his fingers. I took a breath as I curled my hand, clasping it to his.

If he woke up and we were holding hands, I could just pretend to be asleep. He'd probably tell me when we 'woke up' the next morning and we'd share a laugh, reminded of our childhood.

So why was I so nervous? This was just Wakka!

Right?

I nearly jumped when his fingers curled around my hand in a tight grip, unintentionally letting out a small gasp of surprise. It was enough for him to hear me and his eyes began to flutter open. Snapping my eye shut, I forced my breathing to slow, hoping the racing of my heart couldn't be heard in the dead silent room. Hoping that he wouldn't realize I had been awake for nearly five hours watching him sleep.

I could hear the rustling of sheets and a slight pull on my arm, but he never let go of my hand. I felt him pull my arm towards him and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest when I felt his hot breath on my fingers.

"I am so in love with you." He said. Was he talking to me? Was he still asleep? Did he think I was someone else? I didn't know what to do and suddenly, I was so out of breath it was if I had been running for miles without stopping.

Then his lips. He kissed my hand, lingering for a moment before letting go and returning our hands where they had been resting previously.

"I love you, Lulu," he said.

I took a deep breath, for if I hadn't I would have suffocated. He loved me? Did he know what he was saying? He wasn't delusional, was he? Maybe I had just fallen asleep and dreamt that; maybe he wasn't really in love with me.

Or maybe he was and he was waiting for me to open my eye and profess my love for him. I opened my eyes, heartbroken to see that his eyes were shut. It hadn't been a dream, it couldn't have. We were facing each other, our hands woven together; I couldn't have dreamed all that.

I wasn't sure what came over me, but I pulled his hand toward my lips and kissed it gently. "I'm in love with you, too, Wakka." Then I returned our hands to the spot between our bodies.

I closed my eyes, feeling a little happier than I had when I had settle myself into the chair hours ago. It didn't matter that what he had said might have been a dream or that he was asleep. What mattered was that I had finally found the courage to tell Wakka that I loved him.

Only tomorrow, I promised, I would do it when he was awake.


End file.
